The Kind Of Pain That Heals
by Welcome2MyWorldxoxo
Summary: The power death holds over us can be a crushing weight like the currents of water that drag you to the sea bed. A soldier running from his past, a waitress who has her own scars. Will he just pass through or will she give him a reason to stay? ExB
1. Scarred

**AN: This is something I wrote for a contest, but the contest was canceled and I just now finally bothered to finish the one-shot. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. Thanks to IsabellaMarieCullen3 for beta'ing this baby and giving the courage to actually post it.**

**Summary:** _The power death holds over us can be a crushing weight like the currents of water that drag you to the sea bed._ A hitchhiker running from his past, a waitress who has her own scars. Will he just pass through or will she give him a reason to stay? ExB

The Kind Of Pain That Heals.

I could feel the sun beating down on me, snaking through my threadbare wife-beater and burning me as I trudged slowly down the road, my feet dragging along the road with each step. The baseball cap on my head did little next to nothing about keeping the sun out of my eyes, so I kept my head down with my shoulders hunched in. I dropped my duffel bag in the sand next to the road and stretched my sore muscles. Fuck! Why did I decide to do this again?

Oh yeah, because I had been about an inch away from killing myself back home. Ever since that...accident...my life had become a cycle of hospital visits, therapy, and medication. I hated the numb feeling it gave as I watched everyone shoot me worried, pitied looks every time I moved.

I had been suffocated and coddled amidst the people who used to be proud and respected me. The blow to my pride meant nothing to me, but the insistent, nagging of my family, telling me what I should and should not do, had practically sent me over the edge. I was a grown man, not a child, and while I knew that they were only trying to help, I had no choice but to leave everything behind and go find the man I used to be. To try and find that sense of adventure that had gotten me in this mess in the first place.

I had gotten rid of my phone and withdrew a few thousand dollars from the bank. All I left was a note telling them that I was sorry and that I needed time. I hitched a ride from a couple at a gas station and hadn't looked back. Since I was using cash, there was no way that they could track me. I was essentially a free man.

So why did I feel as suffocated as I did back at home?

I glanced back down the road I had been walking on and tried to see past the waves of heat that sat a few inches off the ground. I could see a truck in the distance and a small bit of hope spread through me as I thrust my thumb out hoping that it would stop.

It wasn't often that you saw people on these deserted roads. A few locals, but that was about it.

The truck clanked on by, not bothering to even slow down as it left me standing there in the dust. I sighed and slung my duffel bag back over my shoulder. I wasn't that surprised anymore that no one picked me up. At the beginning of my trip it had been easy, but over the months my appearance had dwindled.

The holes in the knee of my jeans made it look like I was practically wearing shorts and my once white wife-beater had turned into a more gray color. I didn't know the last time I had showered, and my stubble was now long enough to be considered a beard. I looked like I had been sleeping behind an alleyway, which sometimes wasn't that far from the truth.

I rubbed my jaw, feeling the scratchy hair before taking my hat off to run a hand through my sweat soaked hair.

What had once felt like escaping was starting to look like running. I had thought leaving would have helped, but I still had the nightmares that left me sweating and vomiting down the toilet as I sobbed on a motel bathroom floor. The only difference was that now, there was no one there with me. I was alone, and it was my own fault.

Every time I thought about returning home, panic would set in until I could barely breath anymore, so I just kept on going. No destination, no reason to stop, just miles and miles of road ahead of me; just waiting for my feet to drag over them.

I had left everything behind, only bringing clothes and money with me. The only real, tangible thing I had of, what I now called my old life, was the metal hanging around my neck and burning through my chest, into my heart.

As much as I loathed what it had ultimately done to me, I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. It kept me grounded every morning when I felt like giving up. Just seeing my name printed in the metal kept me going, kept me from giving up and right now, that was all I needed.

**BPOV.**

_The power death holds over us can be a crushing weight..._

_Snap_

_Pop_

_Flinch_

_...like the currents of water that drag you to the sea bed..._

_Snap_

_Pop_

_Flinch_

"Will you stop that irritating noise?" I snapped, looking over my laptop at Jessica who was popping gum. She shrugged and shot me a look, "Stop being so grouchy, it's not like you've actually done much today. I'm telling you, you seriously need to get laid."

I made a noise akin to a growl and thought about hurling my laptop at her fat head. Instead I closed my eyes and took a deep breath; getting angry wasn't going to help anything but my need to inflict pain on something. "I do not need to get laid. I am perfectly fine the way I am now."

Jessica snorted and patted my hand before moving towards the back where her husband, Mike, the cook was in the kitchen. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Pummeling you face," I muttered under my breath, "that would make me sleep like a baby."

The bell over the door chimed and I looked up to see where Jessica was, hoping that she would take this customer, but I couldn't see her anywhere. Fuck my life! I let out a harsh breath through my nose and closed my laptop, grabbing my half apron and notepad I fixed a smile to my face and turned round to face the customer.

_If this one grabs my ass I will deck him_. I thought sourly as I scanned the diner for whatever truck driver or asshole that had decided to visit this lovely establishment. Sitting in the very back corner was a man, slouched down with cap low over his face, covering his eyes. Three words come to mind: shady, suspicious, strange.

I sighed, hoping it wasn't one of those yahoo's who was going to pull a gun out and try to rob the place. There really wasn't much to take, maybe a hundred dollars if you were lucky.

I walked purposefully towards him all the while keeping the overly bright smile on my face.

"Hi, my name is Bella, and I'm going to be your waitress today. What can I get you?" I held the notebook up with the pen poised ready to take his order. He looked up at me slowly and pulled the cap off his head before running his slightly trembling fingers through his messy, damp locks.

Stubble covered, his jaw was almost long enough to be called a beard and the purple bags under his eyes told me that he probably hadn't slept well in a long time. He looked like he needed a good scrub and a shave because if you looked real close you could see that under all the hair there was good bone structure that shouldn't be hidden away.

But it wasn't his beard that really got my attention-I still thought he should shave it off though-it was his eyes. They were a dull green, filled with pain and emptiness. It hurt just to look at him and my heart squeezed together painfully at a reminder of when I had last seen eyes like that and I tried to breathe normally through it all.

"What would you recommend?" His voice, which you would have thought would be as rough as the rest of him, was soft and gentle. It warmed me slightly and I pulled myself out of the weird funk I had just fallen into.

"Umm...the pancakes are pretty good," I muttered stupidly and ran a hand through my hair as I berated myself mentally. He nodded, "Okay, could I have a coffee with that?" I nodded and scribbled down his order. "Anything else?" I asked suddenly wanting to escape this tense bubble that seemed to be surrounding us.

He hesitated for a second before asking, "Is there a restroom around here?" I nodded and pointed him towards the back.

"Through there, on your right."

He thanked me quietly before standing up so that he towered over me. Now, I would like to say that I am not that small compared to some women. I am a healthy 5'7, but this guy...well he must have been 6'4 at least. It was then that I noticed his body. Firm, broad shoulders with a lean, muscular chest. He had a body of a man who worked out without overly doing so.

I noticed the chain around his neck glint in the light and I had to hide my shock at the dog tags hanging there. It wasn't often that you got a soldier from the army in these parts that wasn't local. He must be a hitchhiker or something as there was no car out front.

While I was busy staring at him, he had grabbed the duffel bag that he had placed next to him-confirming my hitchhiker guess- and walked past me, giving me a nice view of his ass.

Maybe I did need to get laid.

#0#0#0#0#

I watched him studiously all afternoon as he sat in the booth, either drinking coffee or reading. I didn't know if he was waiting for someone or if he just didn't have anywhere to go. If he was looking for a ride out of here then he would be waiting a long time. Not many people passed through here and the rest of us never really left. Why leave when you had everything you needed nearby?

I peered over at him from under my arm as I cleaned a tables nearby. He held a book in his hand-it was tilted down so I couldn't read the cover-but his attention wasn't on it. He was staring out of the window with a faraway look in his eyes, like he wasn't really here. I could see that deep rooted pain still in his eyes and I really felt for him.

I knew a bit of what pain could do to you.

Only extensive and fierce therapy had managed to get me through all my problems after my heart transplant. I felt a small pang in my chest at the remembrance of that dark time and I rubbed the spot unconsciously, thanking God that I was still here today. I shook my head, dispelling any and all thoughts that revolved around my operation and moved to where he was sitting.

"Hey," I said in a quiet, gentle voice. His head snapped up and he looked over at me, questions mingling with the pain in his eyes.

"I'm not sure how long you plan to stay here, but I can give you a lift into town if you like. My mum runs a small bed and breakfast there. It's not much, but it's a good place to rest your head for the night." His lip twitched upwards slightly like he had entertained the idea of smiling before discarding it. "I would like that," he murmured.

I smiled, "Okay, I just need to put this stuff away and clock out. Why don't you meet me out front? My truck's the red one that looks like its on its last legs." He nodded absently and I hurried round the back to grab my stuff.

Normally I wouldn't even think about offering a strange man a ride, especially one so big and broken, for all I knew he could be a loose canon out for blood, but there was something about him that reached out to me and I couldn't help but reach back.

#0#0#0#0#

We all sat around the table in silence. There was my mother and her husband Phil, there was me, Edward and an elderly lady called Maria. The only noise that could be heard was the clanking of silverware against plates.

"So, Edward...tell us a little about yourself." Edward froze, his fork inches from his mouth before quickly collecting himself and putting his fork back down.

"I'm originally from Washington State, but have been doing some traveling for a few months now. I plan to go to all the states." My mother clasped her hands together and sighed longingly as her eyes danced in awe. "That sounds amazing. I've always wanted to travel, but I never had the money for it. Is there a specific reason you decided to travel now?"

Edward shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable, and coughed, "Well, I had life put into a different prospective and I realized that we have to grasp life while we still have it. I wanted to see something beyond the pictures in books." She nodded, absorbing all that he said, but I found that there was something slightly off about his story.

Why hadn't he mentioned the fact that he was in the army, or what caused him to change? It had to have something to do with the deep rooted pain in his eyes, I was sure. His eyes met mine across the table briefly before he looked away and I knew that I was right. There was something there, something deep down that he was trying to hide. I could see the walls up around him as he tried to protect himself from whatever it was that he was hiding from.

#0#0#0#0#

**EPOV.**

A strangled noise of pain left my throat as I was ripped out of my sleep. I shot up so that I was sitting, and tried to breathe through the pounding in my ears. Sweat dripped down my skin and hair, and I could still taste the faint tang of blood in my mouth and the smell of burnt flesh in my nostrils.

I tried so swallow down the bile that had risen in my throat, but it sat just below my throat ready for me to weaken and expel its contents as pain wrecked through my body like a five ton truck. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room as I tried to get my bearings straight and landed on the woman from the diner, Bella, kneeling beside me with wide eyes.

She looked scared and I closed my eyes and swallowed heavily, pushing through my discomfort in an effort to not completely freak her out.

What she was doing in this room was unknown to me and my shaking hands scrambled along the bedside table looking for my pills. I would ask once I had some sort of semblance of control over my body.

Her fingers connected with mine and I opened my eyes to see her holding my pills. She offered them to me silently and I swallowed two without even bothering to get water. My fists clenched the sheets between my fingers tightly as the panic and agony subsided slowly, releasing me from their hold.

"Are you okay?" she asked timidly.

My eyes shot to her and I forced myself to remain calm. "Yeah," I whispered hoarsely.

She bit her lip and nodded before her eyes dropped from my face to my chest and she let out a horrified gasp. I fought against the instinct to pull the sheets up and over my chest so that she couldn't see my scarred, mutilated skin.

_Please don't ask how it happened, please don't ask how it happened, please don't ask how it happened._

"What happened?" She asked and I closed my eyes in defeat. Tremors shook through my body as I repressed the memories, the faces of bloodied friends and comrades flashing minutely through my brain before I shoved them into the deepest recesses of my mind.

I felt something soft and warm connect with my chest and I let out a shaky breath as I looked down to see her hand tracing the scar over my heart. I wanted to snap at her, force some of the anger that sat deep inside me at her, but I was simply too exhausted to even try lashing out. I was at most vulnerable and I hated that feeling.

"D-don't..." I gripped her hand in mine, trying to form a coherent sentence. She immediately tried to withdraw her hand, a small blush causing her cheeks to pink. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you," she whispered, embarrassment and caution in her tone. Her eyes darted away from me and I suspected she wanted to leave, but my fingers wouldn't cooperate with that fact, if anything they simply tightened their hold on her hand that now rested flat against my chest.

I briefly wondered if she could feel my heart beating under her hand as it lay there, connecting us, transporting the tension from one to another.

Her lips parted and she stared into my eyes, searching them for something I was almost certain she wouldn't find. Sometimes I even wondered if there was even a drop of humanity left inside of me. All the war and death that I had seen had desensitized me to any and all positive emotions and thoughts.

Even the words that flowed out of my mouth held a bitter edge as it begged me for silence. Silence from my mind, from the screams of pain and anguish that echoed throughout my brain. From the clink of metal against metal as it swung loosely around my neck. But there was no escape from it, no peace found in reach of my fingers.

So I merely numbed myself with medication, wishing that I could escape my own mind. But even then it had been impossible to ignore the reminders that stared right at me...so I left.

My hand slid off hers as I retreated back into myself, not wishing to place any of my pain and guilt on someone else shoulders. I shouldn't have survived it, I shouldn't have had to watch them all die around while I waited for the day that I just gave up and succumbed to the pain.

I had expected her to withdraw from me as I closed myself off, but instead she shifted her hand to the flesh warmed metal.

"Sgt. Masen A. Edward...It happened in the army, didn't it?"

I admired her persistence in talking and touching someone who was virtually a complete stranger to her, someone who for all she knew, was some sort of loose cannon.

I nodded and she dropped them making the metal clink together. To any other it would just be a small, maybe irritating noise, but to me it was like the grinding of the brakes of the train against the track. Sparks flying everywhere with no regard for where they fell as it ground together, forcing itself to mesh and connect until there was nothing left.

She stroked a hand across my face, along the scratchy surface of my almost beard before running her fingers through the thick locks of hair on my head, her nails scratching my scalp.

"I see so much pain...so much hurt in your eyes. I can feel your heart bleeding inside. Tell me what happened to you to make you like this...please."

I felt like an explosion had gone off in my chest at her words. It was like my heart exploded into a million separate pieces. The pain was almost unbearable and I couldn't breathe, I couldn't relive what she wanted me to. I shook my head frantically, not caring that tears were starting to spill down my cheeks.

"I-I-I...can't" I choked out and drew my knees up to my chest. She shook her head slowly, a look of sympathy on her face. "You're so young," she whispered and I looked away from her and clenched my teeth together. I wiped away the tears and looked back at her, anger replacing pain. "Do not pity me." I spat angrily. She continued to shake her head.

"I no more pity you, than I pity myself." She reached up to the top of her tank top and drew the front of it down to reveal the scar just above her breast. It was faint, almost invisible, but still there if you looked close enough. It curved along her skin, so pale and fleeting, yet so tangibly connected to her heart.

"I used to think that I wasn't whole, that I was half a person because I couldn't carry my own heart. It was too weak to keep me alive. But now I realize that God gave me another chance at living, not just a half life, but a whole one. I don't take it for granted anymore."

To say I was shocked would have been a vast understatement. It wasn't everyday that you met someone who had gone through what she had; who was so willing to give out their story without so much as batting an eyelash. I lifted my hand up slowly and traced the scar, intrigued by how soft the skin was.

I looked up into her eyes and she stared back at me, "We all have our scars, Edward. Inside and out, but we have to make sure that we do not become our scars. It's hard and it may always continue to hurt, but don't lose yourself in them."

I'm not sure how what happened next happened. Maybe it was the sudden high tension in the room, or maybe it had been simmering there, waiting for us to dive in head first. I'm not sure, but somehow I found my lips pressed to hers, her legs on either side of me, straddling my body.

The kiss was not slow or gentle. It was hard and full of pain, full of loss, full of tears.

She clung to me tightly, her fingers digging into my scalp as our mouth moved frantically against each other. It hurt to kiss her, to mold my lips against hers caused actual physical pain, but it was different from the pain that had been consuming me for so long, it was a softer, more gentle pain, bearable.

The heat of her body burned deep inside me, eliciting reactions that had laid dormant for a long time. Her breast were pressed flush against me, the nipples hard and aching. I let out a strangled groan and pulled away, my eyes shut firmly as I tried to gather myself. Should I be doing this? Should I say yes or no?

"Don't say no," she whispered in my ear. She threaded her hand through mine, as I opened my eyes, and pressed it to her breast. A shuddering breath left me as I tried to think clearly, but she pulled away and tugged the hem of her top up and yanked it over her head until her top half was bare. Her nipples pebbled and stood erect in front of me, saluting me, beckoning me closer.

Without any consent from the logical part of my brain, I found my lips wrapped round the hardened flesh, my teeth nipping gently at it as she arched further into me with her nails digging into the skin of my scalp.

I hissed and gripped her hips in an almost bruising hold as I pressed her down on me, grinding into her hot center. She let out a noise which was a mix between a moan and a gasp and pushed me back with more force than I knew she was capable of.

She made me lay on my back as her fingers danced and traced over the scars on my chest, each scar reaching lower and lower until they reached the band of my underwear. I looked up at her with scared eyes. I didn't know if I could do this. I had been no where near ready enough to be intimate before and the aching, throbbing pain of my cock told me not to let this past.

I didn't know if I could be gentle with her, to treat her the way that she was meant to be treated. I was raw and needed to grab and to take forcefully, to let the animal inside of me out.

"You don't have to be gentle with me," she whispered, knowing somehow what I was thinking. "Just take what you need from me and I'll do the same." I shook my head, she didn't understand. "I will bleed you dry," I whispered, my voice hoarse and choked up.

She smiled sadly at me, "I won't let you. You don't need to. I'll give you me and in return you'll give me a piece of you. Just a small part."

Trepidation weighed heavily on me. She was so young, so innocent to the bloodthirsty world around her that was ready to rip you apart without the slightest hesitation. I stared into her eyes, searching and begging for something, some doubt, some fear inside of her, but there was nothing, no indicator that she didn't know what she was getting herself into.

I nodded slowly, deciding to take a chance, one that would either make me or break me.

I found her mouth immediately back on mine, licking and biting as her nails dragged down my chest, catching on my nipples. I welcomed the sparks and shivers of pain that she gave me almost as much as she enjoyed it when I pinched and twisted her nipple between my fingers and the way I pulled and yanked on her hair.

Almost without thought our underwear was shed, baring our bodies fully to one another. The evidence of our arousal was apparent for both of us. I could feel the wetness coating me as she shifted her hips against me, and she could feel me hard and ready against her.

She gripped my cock tightly in her small hand, barely able to reach completely around me, as she guided me inside her. Her hair fanned out around us, hiding us from the world like a curtain, and the heat of her center burned against my sensitive skin as she enveloped me in her personal volcano.

Our eyes stayed connected to one another, probing and digging behind carefully constructed walls as brown swirled with green.

My eyes fluttered closed as she sat fully down on me and my hands, that had unconsciously gone back to her hips, dug into her skin, bruising and marking her. We stayed still, not even breathing for one long minute before she rocked her hips against mine. I responded readily, thrusting up into her body. We started a slow, measured pace, but it was quickly discarded as the desperation and pain broke through the surface.

I needed it long, hard and fast.

I rolled us over, somehow keeping our bodies connected and set a pace that met my needs. Her nails went back to shredding my skin, digging into my back as she tried to draw blood from me. It seemed we were each taking what we needed, each trying to find a deeper, more meaningful pain in the other.

There is no way I can aptly describe the coupling of bodies, the pull and push, the heat and want. The way nails and teeth punctured weak skin, the whimpers of agony and pleasure. The frustration, the desperation, the way we clung to one another like a life line. It was need, it was want, it took and it gave willingly, stabbing and digging into our skin. It was fear and anger, tongue and lips, soft and hard. It dragged you down into a deep pit, an abyss, swirling and dancing in the dark.

I clenched my fist in her hair, fisting it as I pulled it forwards, dragging it so that I could meld my mouth harshly against hers. She drew my tongue into her mouth, sucking it as teeth attempted to nip back in retaliation. I was sure someone in the house would have been disturbed by the amount of noise we were making. We did not try and keep quiet as the growls and hisses escaped our mouths.

Everything about what we were doing was raw, hard and animalistic. We gave no reprieve as we drank in each other. Hips thrust, pelvises rubbed and slapped against each other as harsh breaths were expelled into each others mouths. No amount of tears and sweat could hold of the looming sense of death that hid behind the both of us. We had survived and she had healed, but I was reluctant to do the same.

To heal would mean that I would lose that last bit of humanity I clung onto so hard day after day. I would be an empty shell with no feelings or emotions. That wasn't a life, that was an existence.

Lust shrouded us like a cloak of smoke, wrapping us in a scent of sex and freesias, distracting me from anything and everything.

My fingers slipped down damp, soft skin until touched wet heat. I rubbed her clit, forcing her closer to the end. What the end brought was a mystery to me, a paradox of desire and fear. It was enough to confuse even the smartest of men. She grasped my chin in one hand, feeling the prickles of my almost beard dig into her fingers as she clutched at me like a life line.

I ripped my mouth away from hers, feeling blood drip down from where her teeth had teared my lip. I felt like shouting, screaming just to try and get her to understand. My skin prickled and burned wherever she touched me and it hurt and that calmed me. Pain was my vice, my reason for still being here. Without pain there was nothing, just emptiness.

"Edward..." Her mouth formed my name and it snaked down my back like an electric shock. It was a plea, a promise, a command. It taunted me and soothed me at the same time.

My whole body froze unexpectedly and I felt my heart, mind and body explode at the same time. I was blinded by the colors dancing behind my eyelids and pain shot through every vein, every pore in my beaten body. I bellowed in agony as my body ripped itself apart. Dry sobs left my lips as my body shook and wracked. My hands dug into the pillows on either side of her head and I destroyed them easily, tearing them into pieces. I barely registered anything beyond the soft skin and what it gave. My arms shook before giving out, making me lean my whole weight on top of her, covering and sheltering her.

I could feel her heart beating rapidly as I buried my head in her neck. We panted and lay tangled with her legs and arms wrapped tightly around my body, refusing to let me move and for once, I welcomed it.

#0#0#0#0#0#

I stood in front of the mirror, light shining softly through the curtained window. I took a deep breath and raised the razor to my shaving cream covered face. I raked it down my skin in long firm strokes, each giving way to smooth skin. I could see a spark of humanity shining through my eyes and I felt the edge of my mouth twitch up slightly. I felt lighter and freer than I had in months and it was all thanks to the girl still lying in my bed sleeping.

I finished off my face and wiped the residual cream off my face before heading back across the hall and into the room. She looked so serene, otherworldly, as she slept and I didn't have the heart to wake her. I padded silently round the room picking up my stuff and placing it my duffel bag. I cast her one last look as I placed a note on the bedside table and let out a deep breath before slipping out the door and heading downstairs, away from her.

**BPOV.**

My eyes slowly peeled themselves open and I rolled over onto my stomach and stretched, wincing at the ache in my all my joints. I felt around for the warm body that I knew should me next to me, but only found cold sheets. My eyes darted over to where my hand was and my heart let in my throat as I sat up and searched around the room for him. He couldn't have left me here, he wouldn't have, not after all we had shared yesterday. He would have at least said goodbye.

_Maybe he went to the bathroom_, I thought trying to rationalize. Traitorous tears filled my eyes and I pushed them back furiously, I was being stupid. I wiped a hand over my face and moved to get out the bed to search for my clothes. It was then that I heard it. A small clink. I froze, not daring to look down and see for certain what I knew would be around my neck.

I lifted a shaking hand and touched the warm, metal dog tags he must have left with me as some sort of goodbye. My fingers traced over his name stamped into it. He had given me a part of himself like he had promised he would. I clutched them tightly in my hand and noticed a small note on the bedside table. I picked it up cautiously and grinned when I saw what was written.

_I'm downstairs._

**AN: So...what did you think? Did you like ArmyWard? Review and tell me! I'm not sure if I am continuing this or not...we'll see.**


	2. My Soul To Take

**AN: So, you guys managed to convince me that there was so much more to this story that I could give you and so I'm taking a chance and going with your word. Thanks to IsabellaMarieCullen3 for beta'ing this for me, and thanks to Ange de l'aube for the epic banner. (Check it out, its on my profile)**

**WARNING: Chapter contains torture and violence and talk of suicide.**

**Chapter 2**

**My Soul To Take**

Suffocating darkness wrapped around me, strangling, muffling, any and all responses that wanted to escape my mouth. I could hear them moving about, their shoes slapping against the concrete floor as they spoke harshly to each other in a language I did not understand. I was bound, tied to a chair, unable to move at all.

The chair beneath me was the only thing I could be absolutely sure of; everything else seemed to swim in and out of focus. My breath wheezed and panted and my stiff body was sweaty and smeared with blood and dirt. My heart smashed against my chest furiously as my mind whirled, trying to find an escape from the dark that had enveloped me.

As quick as the darkness had come, it was taken away. My eyes were assaulted with a blinding light and I felt myself sway, fatigue and exhaustion blurring my vision. They were screaming and shouting at me, cursing me for my uselessness.

They wanted answers, and they wanted secrets that I had no knowledge of. Even if I had known, I would not have told them. All I could do was stare dumbly at them, waiting for the blows to commence.

I felt my chin being yanked up, grubby fingers squeezing it as black, dead eyes bore into me. Moisture hit my face as he screamed at me to answer, to just give up the information that I knew. I wasn't surprised anymore that I didn't see it coming; that I didn't register the blow until I felt the snap of my neck and the blood dripping through my slack, parched, broken lips.

"Speak!" The man ordered and I fought to lift my head up and look at him. "Sergeant Edward Mason. Second company. Officer of the United States Military." The words fell from my lips automatically as they did every time I was in this room. If I could think hard enough, I could remember the first time they had brought me in here, how straight my back had been, and how focused and clear my voice was.

But now it was like they were the only words in my head. They were on a loop, repeating over and over again. They had trained me to do this back at when I first joined the army. There had been simulations, quizzes, tests, but none of them could truly prepare you for what it was really like.

The feel of fists raining down on your skin, the blinding pain as they slowly drag a blunt knife across your chest, shredding your skin slowly. The screams that exit your throat as they pulse your body full of electricity, or the tightening in your lungs as they force your head back and force thick, black oil down it. In the end, it doesn't matter for how long they do it for, or how they choose to torture you that particular day, because it all blurs together into a a mass of pain.

Minutes, days, hours, weeks all merge together until you realize that this isn't a nightmare that you are experiencing. This is your life and there is no escaping from it . Pain becomes the only thing telling you that you're still alive, whether it's the constant throbbing in your head from where it smashed against the ground when the chair fell over, or if it's the gaping wound in your side that you know they won't treat, simply because they don't care.

All they want is information and they will do anything to get it.

It's at this point that you realize that darkness is no longer your enemy, but your friend. Darkness becomes your reprieve, you safe haven and sanctuary. They can't touch you in the darkness, they don't exist in it. You feel nothing, think nothing, be nothing when you're in the dark.

Somehow though, I know that today was different from most, because instead of dragging me back to my cell to leave me to my solitude, they drag me in the opposite direction and throw into another, bigger, cell. It's as I lay there, my throbbing body soaking up the cold of the concrete floor, that I felt their eyes on me. The subtle probing of them as they trail over my body.

My eyelids blinked slowly, the weight of them too heavy for me to carry. I tried to move, to pull myself up into a proper position, but I no longer had the strength to try. There was no point.

Let them stare, let them rip me apart and feed me to the dogs. It would be welcome.

I could feel the darkness creeping up on me, tapping me on the shoulder and asking me to fall into its embrace, and so I did.

It could have been minutes, hours, or days before my eyelids peeled themselves back, but I had ceased to care about it. I could still feel my body buzzing, sending small jabs of electricity through me, and I wondered if it was real or merely a phantom, a shadow left behind.

As if my body wasn't broken enough, as if my mind hadn't shattered until it was empty nothingness. I was strung up tight, my muscles tensed and screaming, as I forced myself to drag myself along the ground and prop myself up against the wall.

My head lolled against it, my neck unable to hold its weight as my eyes took in the dull cell. I was panting and wheezing from moving so much and my body was slack, no energy, nothing left inside of it. I was like an oyster, my insides bared before all until someone picked me up and swallowed all I had to offer, leaving only my shell behind.

"It's my girl's birthday today." My eyes darted sluggishly to where a man sat. His blonde, dirty hair covering his eyes, covering the hollowed out face beneath it. His uniform hung loose on him and his fingers shook as he pulled out a small picture and stared at it. "She promised me that she'd wait for me, that I was the only man for her, but I wished she hadn't. I'm going to die in here and I'll never get to see her face again."

It was with those words that his face collapsed in on itself. His lips trembled as tears fell down his face. "If they don't kill me, I'll kill myself. There's nothing left of me anymore, and I am no longer the man I once was. Death is the only escape now." He ran a shaking hand through his hair, his ice blue eyes darting around, not really seeing anything.

"Shut it Jazz, you're getting out of here if I have to drag your bleeding and broken ass behind me." My eyes moved towards the other voice. Another soldier, also blonde, sat in the far corner with his legs stretched out in front of him as he slouched against the wall. His face was tired, but hard, and he hadn't given into the horrors that were being handed out like food in a canteen. Hope was still at the forefront of his eyes as he spoke. He glanced over at me.

"Hey kid, you got a name?" I looked at him blankly before responding, "Sergeant Edward Mason. Second company. Officer of the United States Military," I murmured hoarsely, my lips again, speaking without so much as a thought from my mind.

"Fucking hell, they really got to you didn't they?" he muttered, squinting at me, "Barely out of diapers and they're sending you out to the front lines. Fuck America is what I say! As soon as I get home, I'm going to renew my vows with my wife and move to somewhere hot, like the Bahamas."

I heard a snort come from nearby and saw another soldier sprawled out on his back, his hands beneath his head, "What the fuck do you wanna renew your vows for Carlisle? My girl is waiting for me to let her walk down the aisle a first time, let alone a second."

"Not all of us wait until the last moment to marry, James." He turned his attention back to me, "You got a girl waiting back home for you?" he asked and I shook my head slowly, ignoring my protesting muscles. My eyes continued to blink rapidly as I tried to work out if I was hallucinating or not. I wouldn't say it was the first time.

"Well, you are undeniably fucked then, kid. When you ain't got shit to fight for, you stop fighting and there ain't nothing better than the call of a sweet girl to make you fight." His eyes took on a vacant look as he looked off into the distance.

Do you know what it feels like when the ground beneath opens up and tries to swallow you whole, and the only thing keeping you from falling is five fingers, grasping onto the edge? Every day you feel like your slipping further and further down, and it won't be long before your broken, bleeding fingers finally give and you fall into the depths of your mind. That's how I felt and I wasn't sure how long I could last.

Carlisle had been right, I didn't have anything solid, anything tangible to fight for. Sure, I had family, friends, comrades who I could trust my life with, but I didn't have that taste of all consuming peace. I wasn't young as to have never felt the flesh of a woman, but I had never felt a connection. My sights had been set too far into the future, looking at all the things I had hoped to accomplish.

Things like marriage, love, kids, or settling down, hadn't even passed through my mind, They weren't even a blip on my radar. They were the things you always expect to have later on down the road when you have accomplished everything you wanted. But it was obvious to me now that the one thing I needed, I didn't have.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the sound of shouting in the hallway and the scrape of keys. All our eyes became trained on the door, waiting, neither breaths nor hope escaping our lips. The door flew open and clanged loudly against the wall, the sound grating on every nerve imaginable, yet no one moved an inch. An overwhelming scent of burnt flesh hit my nostrils as they dragged in a body.

Deep, bleeding, gashes covered his body, and his skin was charred and burnt beyond all recognition. They dumped the body on the floor and left without so much of a glance. Carlisle wasted no time in going over to the body and rolling him over onto his back. "What the fuck did they do to you Crowley?" he murmured as he placed two fingers at his neck to check his pulse.

"Shit!" he cursed loudly, "If we don't get him a medic now, he's not going to make it." He jumped up and started hammering on the door, shouting for assistance. Without much thought, I found myself edging towards the body. I decided that my mind was no longer functioning straight as I found myself leaning over the body.

Now that I was next of the body, I could hear small wheezes and coughs as Crowley tried to get a decent amount of air into his lungs.

His gray, glazed over eyes stared up at me and I wondered is he was actually seeing me or if he was already too far gone to see anything. He lifted his arms slowly and brought them up to his neck.

His hands shook as he fumbled with his dog tags, pain etched into every corner of his face as he shakily drew them over his head and placed them in my hand. He closed my hand around it and looked me straight in the eye. All the noise, all the smells, the fact that I was kneeling in a puddle of his blood, faded as he looked at me, a desperate man trying to get his last message across.

"Give this to my Lauren," he wheezed out hoarsely, "tell her I tried, tell her... I fought for her every...day and tha..that there wasn't a mo...ment when she wasn't in my thoughts." I nodded unable to speak. "Promise me," he pressed on, gripping my hand as tightly as he could.

"I-I promise," I whispered and he nodded and let his hand fall from mine. "Tell her I never stopped loving her..." His eyes flickered as he fought against the darkness. A lone tear escaped his eyes and his lips trembled, "I-I-..." His eyes stared up into me and I watched as the life slowly drained out of them, as his soul relinquished its hold on his body and flew away.

"More peace in death, than in life. I take your memories with me to your love. I honor your place and I honor your valor. Be at peace and rest in eternal bliss." The words escaped my mouth quietly as I reached up and closed his eyelids.

"He's gone," I murmured hoarsely, my eyes never leaving Crowley's body. All noise ceased and the room fell into a heavy silence. My eyes darted to the other men. Jazz was rocking himself to and fro, his eyes shut firmly as he held beads in his hand. James sighed and looked up at the ceiling, neither moving nor speaking. Carlisle sat slumped against the door, his eyes vacant and absent of any and all hope.

"We're going to die in here," he murmured, no inflection in his voice. "Were going to rot away in here for the rest of lives until every single one of us is dead. I'm not sure if I can even go back out there. Look at us, there is nothing left that humanity can fix. We're broken beyond repair and fuck me if I'm going to let those bastards take my soul away from me."

"We don't have souls Car," James muttered, "All we have is our flesh and bones. We lost our souls the day we shot the first bullets that killed."

I shivered at how empty and hopeless they sounded. Was it not minutes ago that they had been full of hope and ready to fight? I looked down at the dog tags in my hand and placed them around my neck.

"No," I murmured.

"We aren't going to give up. If not for yourselves, then do it for each other. Do it for Jazz so he go back to his girl. Do for it James so that he can finally put a ring on his girl's finger. Do it for Carlisle so that he can renew his vows and move to Porto Rico. Do it for me so that I can actually find a reason to keep living, but most of all of, do it for Crowley, so that his memory doesn't die in vain. Do it so that we can place his dog tags in his girl's hand and tell her his last words. She'll know that he loved more than the fucking world. Giving up is for cowards and I for one, did not survive this long so that I could die in a cold cell next to four other men. Who's with me?"

"Sure kid, I'd rather kill you than watch you slowly die in here." James muttered. "Same," Carlisle said. "For each other," Jazz muttered. While each agreement had been half-hearted at best, it was a start. I was not going to falter and I was not going to die. At least not until I had personally placed Crowley's dog tags in his girl's hand and told her what he told me to tell her.

If I couldn't live for me, then I would live for someone else. What happened after that was not something I wanted to think about, but I feared that after everything was done, that my fingers would finally give way and I would fall and be trapped inside my mind, feeling and living in the pain that had been handed to me.

**AN: So what did you think? I thought of most of it while I was walking my dog. Review and tell me your thoughts!**

_**http:/fandomagainstdomesticviolence(.)blogspot(.)com/**_

**_I will be contributing an outtake o_****r side-shot for Preconceived Notions (if you haven't read it, go do so)** for this very, very important cause. The outtake will be in Edward POV and will have their wedding and other little snippets in it. _**Please check out the site. The list of contributing authors is enormous! ****Donations will be accepted from Feb 1-28th. ****Minimum donation is $10.00 and will go directly to National Coalition Against Domestic Violence.**_


	3. Misery Loves Company

**AN: I have never been in the army personally, but I have friends who have been in it, so these all facts from either the British or Israeli army. Thanks to IsabellaMarieCullen3 for beta'ing this for me.**

**WARNING: Talk of Suicide**

**Chapter 3**

**Misery Loves Company**

Naive. That is the one word I can aptly use to describe myself. It wasn't until I had left the confines of the cell and was rescued, that I really realized how adolescent, how young and stupid, I was. My whole life had been built up on fantasies and dreams. Ever since I had was a child I had wanted adventure, I had wanted to see what was beyond the cold, wet weather and greenery of Washington State.

Maybe it was fate or just a mere coincidence that the year I decided that the army was where I wanted to be was the same year as 9/11. It had fueled me to escape the forests that surrounded me for fresh, new places filled with wonderful things that I couldn't have where I currently was.

I wanted to travel, to see the world, and it was those childish thoughts that brought to where I was.

I enlisted with little to no problems and I was encouraged by my family to choose this path, to fight for my country. I stood tall and proud when I completed my basic training, thinking that I was strong and untouchable.

How foolish I had been.

I was young and impressionable at the age of twenty-one, so when the option to join a team going to Iraq I had jumped at the chance. No begging and pleading from my mother could stop me. I was a man on a mission. I could literally feel the it calling to me, begging me to grasp onto this chance with both hands.

I thought I could withstand the horror of watching my enemy fall at my hand, whether from my weapon or from brute force. That the blood that stained my hands wouldn't effect me and leave me waking at night in a cold sweat.

Seeing soldiers being brought in, limbs missing from taking the brunt of the exploding bombs, their screams were deafening, their eyes vacant and I promised myself that it would never be me.

Its strange as you look back on every aspect of your life, every decision, strategized thought, and you wonder what exactly were you thinking. How the fuck did you expect to make it out alive? How did you think that you could escape unscathed? How did you think that death was the answer to your every longing?

But even those weren't my most naive moments. Those moments were when I sat in that cell, wishing, hoping, that I would be rescued. I prayed for relief from the hand that I had dealt. I thought that as soon as the walls that I was trapped in were removed that everything would go back to normal. It was only now that I could see how stupid those thoughts were.

How did I expect to be able to function properly after spending three months being tortured? How did I ever think that things could go back to being how they once were? Maybe everything else would stay the same, but I was irrevocably changed.

It wasn't until I woke up in the hospital screaming and choking on my own bile that I realized I had been living in my own little fairytale. It wasn't until I found myself sitting up, my whole body trembling and wracked with immeasurable pain, my eyes darting back and forth, not seeing a thing in front of me as nurses ran around me trying to pin me down as they stabbed a needle into my neck, that I realized that I was still trapped.

The four concrete walls had been taken away, but my mind had built walls of its own and it held me trapped in there. I could feel myself clawing at my brain, fighting to free itself, but to no avail.

The man in the mirror was not me. He was empty with nothing and no one to hold onto. His eyes were dull and lifeless and his face was drawn and pale. There was no spark of adventure inside of him, no reason to smile, no reason to live.

The pain I had used as my vice in those months was taken away from me and replaced by numbness. The darkness I had craved for once was replaced by memories of what they had done to me. How they had humiliated and defaced me, leaving only the spoiled, broken remains for the dogs to have.

Everything, my whole life, my humanity, had slipped through my fingers without me even noticing and there was nothing I could do to bring it back.

It was like I watched as a spectator, not the active participant, as my family cried around me, in both sadness and thankfulness. I no longer felt anything and I had no reason to be thankful. To spend the rest of my days trapped inside this shell was the worse kind of hell a living mortal could stand.

My commanding officers threw medals at me, spouting shit about bravery, but to me they were just pieces of metal to thrown to the back of my closet never to be seen again. If I was so brave and strong then why was I pitied?

Why was it when I forced to repeat everything that had happened did tears fall down my face and my body shake? If I was so fucking brave then why was I forced to sit through hours of people analyzing me and asking how I was feeling? How was I supposed to answer such a question? I didn't feel anything. The only emotion that I was ever able to force up was self pity and anger.

I lashed out at anyone and everyone. I didn't want people looking at me, talking to me, even thinking about me. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die in my own misery and selfish wants.

Death seemed to be the only escape I could garner. It seemed so simple and easy to just run a blade across my skin or step out in front of a moving bus or maybe even just letting the pills bottles empty down my throat never stopping until there was nothing left to swallow. But too many Sundays spent at church stopped me from going through with it. What was on the other side was said to be worse than this for those who took their own lives than for those who left the world at the hand of another. Suicide was as big as a sin as murder in the eyes of the church and so I fought against the pressing waves of depression and self loathing, not knowing how long I could repress it.

**#0#0#0#0#0#0#**

"Edward? Oh my god! Edward, are you okay?" My eyes flickered open and I swear I could feel every single nerve in my body react in pain as I did so. I let out an agonized groan and blinked as the light from the bathroom window stung my eyes and caused them to water. It had been dark when I had stumbled into my en-suite to dispel the contents of my stomach, maybe three or four in the morning.

I peeled my sweating body off the tiled floor, regretting every movement I made and forced myself onto my knees, pressing my weight against the cold, hard ground, before grabbing the counter and hauling myself up to my feet.

"Edward..." I turned slowly to find my little sister standing there, a look akin to horror on her face as her eyes took in my body, which was only clad in boxers. I had been careful about none of my family ever seeing me disrobed, almost to the point of paranoia. They weren't allowed into my room before ten in the morning and couldn't come in after eleven at night. They were to always knock, no exceptions. The house could be going up in flames and I would still want them to knock.

Humiliation and anger flooded through me as I registered the fact that every single one of my carefully placed rules had just flown out of the window, "Get. Out." I said in a barely controlled voice. Her eyes snapped up to mine and they brimmed with tears of pity, sympathy, and repulsion.

"I-I-I-I'm sorry. Mum asked me to check up on you and-" I cut her off before she could say anything else. "Get out!" I yelled and she stumbled backwards before turning and running. My brain pounded against my skull, trying to fracture the bone as I opened the cabinet above the sink to find my medication.

My fingers shook and fumbled as I searched through it, the labels of the pill bottles swimming before my eyes as I forced myself not to faint. I could taste blood on my tongue as I bit through the skin of my lip and drew it into my mouth.

Heaving breaths wracked through my chest and I gripped the edge of the sink as my knees buckled underneath. Pill bottles fell from the shelves and clattered in the sink as I fought with everything I had not to just pass out on the floor as I had earlier.

It takes a man with absolutely nothing to lose to be able to tell you he is a complete mess and would rather die than spend another minute in this fucked up type of torture. I could feel a sob building up and I tried to push it back as I gritted my teeth and unscrewed the many bottles of pills that I needed.

My throat tightened at the unwelcome feel of them pushing against it, but somehow I managed to choke them down before dragging myself into the shower. I turned the water on cold and slid down so that I was sitting on the floor. My eyes slid shut as the water pelted down on me, stinging and cooling my skin until it was at an almost uncomfortable temperature.

I could feel my body relaxing back into the wall as my pills kicked in, clouding my mind and numbing me.

I hardly registered getting out of the shower and toweling myself dry, all the while refusing to let my gaze wander to the mirror to see how I looked. I felt like I was on auto-pilot as I pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, hating the feel of the scratchy material rubbing agains my skin. I pulled a dark hoodie on over it and put the hood up, not wanting my face to be exposed.

My feet moved without my permission as I exited my room and walked downstairs to join the rest of my family at the kitchen table where breakfast was being served. The tension that settled on the room as soon as I entered it was palpable, but I simply couldn't find it in me to care about the worried glances and the subtle shift of conversation away from anything they deemed would upset me.

The delicate dance they performed around me seemed to be choreographed to irritate me and I clenched my fists tightly together to force myself not to just tell them to say whatever the fuck they wanted to because it wouldn't make any difference.

A plate of pancakes was placed in front of me and I stared at it, wondering if there was point in trying to stomach it. Any normal person would have at least said a thank you for being presented with such a wonderful breakfast, but all I cold manage was a sigh as I picked up my fork and stabbed it.

My eyes caught my sister's red-rimmed ones, but she looked away from me. I knew I should apologize to her, but to find remorse would be to feel and that was something I was not willing to do.

"Edward, dear." My mother said timidly, like her words alone would break me, "Don't forget your appointment with Dr. Banner today." My eyes shut and I wondered, as I did every week, how so much time had escaped as to be able to put in front my shrink again when I had barely recovered from our last session.

Every week, he would try and rip down my walls to try and expose me, to try and leave me raw and bleeding. In some ways I would say he succeeded, but in others I ended feeling worse than when I entered.

"I haven't forgotten," I murmured, the taste of my lie bitter on my tongue. She had reminded me every week for at least fourteen months and I felt like shit for never remembering it. How could I forget the routine my life had become? It was like my mind was a sieve and only retained the big bits and pieces that would eventually be crushed and slither away.

Words held almost no meaning to me and only a fraction of what was spoken was able to make its way through the mist that shrouded my mind.

I've heard people say that the eyes are the window to the soul and I've wondered that if there was nothing in your eyes then did that mean you had no soul.

Time trickled by as I stayed in a limbo, watching, but never really seeing anything as people moved and lived their lives. In the time it took me to blink I found myself in the passenger seat of my father's car. I was not allowed to drive for various reasons. One being that I was on medication and the other being that I couldn't be trusted not to purposefully crash just to end my misery.

It was pointless for me to fight against the truth so I just accepted that this was what my life had become.

I hated the feeling of being incapable of looking after myself. I had, on various occasions, thought and even voiced my opinion on moving out of my parents house for the sole reason of wallowing and wasting away comfortably on my own, but each time it had rebutted.

They all thought I was inept to take care for myself, while I believed that forcing myself into a situation where I had to step up, was in fact the best way to go.

An unbuckling of a seatbelt and the slam of a car door later found me standing in front of the Seattle General Hospital where I was to have my therapy session. I was sure at one point between unbuckling my seatbelt and slamming the car door my father would have wished me well and promised to pick me up in an hour, but if I had heard it then my brain had not registered it.

Standing in front of tall, brick building made memories flood through me of previous hospital visits, whether it was when I strapped to a bed or when I was sitting in a stuffy office trying to dodge questions I was no where near ready to answer.

"Edward Masen?" A clear voice behind me asked. I closed my eyes recognizing the voice but knowing it wasn't real. I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and felt myself hunch inwards as my eyes opened and I turned around.

"I thought it was you!" I was pulled into a rather strong, manly hug. My mind still heavy and fogging was still trying to work out if this was a mere trick of the mind or if he was real and standing here.

"Carlisle?" I questioned squinting at him. He beamed at me and looked me over, his eyes searching mine for something. His smile faltered slightly and he pulled in for another hug when I was sure he found nothing.

"How you holding up kid?" he asked and for once I hesitated. Here was a man who had gone through the same thing as me and yet he stood here with a smile on his face. The pressure to lie weighed heavy on my shoulders, yet I felt he would be able to see through it anyway.

"I could be worse," I said, trying to be optimistic. "You look good." I supplied, changing the subject. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened and I saw a flash in his eyes before he shook his head.

"I'm getting there. Every day is a struggle. I don't know what I would do without my Esme." A look of adoration swept across his face as his mind drifted towards his wife and felt the ghost of a pang slam against my heart.

I wished I had someone. Someone who could hold me at my weakest moments without judgement of my thoughts, someone to love unconditionally and who would love me back...I shook my head at the way my thoughts were going, knowing that I didn't need an extra dose of self pity on top of the mountain I already had stored away.

"Let's take a walk," Carlisle said abruptly and I hesitated again.

"I have a session-"

"Fuck your session kid. We both know they are just full of bullshit. What you need is a nice walk in the polluted city." He raised an eyebrow at me in a 'are you with me' gesture and I found myself agreeing with him.

We set off down the road, away from the hospital, away from my shrink, and away from my life.

I knew there would be a load of shit to deal with when I went home for bailing out on my session, but I didn't care.

"So," Carlisle said after a few minutes of silence, "how is your search going?" I looked at him blankly, wondering if this was one of the things my memory had decided to let go of. "For the girl of your dreams," he added upon seeing my blank expression. I merely raised an eyebrow at him and shook my head slowly.

"Carlisle, my life is too fucked up to even begin to consider dragging someone else into it. Plus I've been told that I not in the right place physically, mentally, or emotionally for a relationship."

He snorted, "Well if that wasn't the biggest crock of horse shit I ever heard. Do you know the first thing I did when my body was healed enough?" I shook my head. "I made sweet love to my wife and fuck if I didn't need every single second of that time wrapped solely around her. Every time I feel like I'm about to lose it, I make love to my wife. It's not about sex or fucking, its about having a close, physical connection with someone who takes you as you are, flaws and all."

I kept on shaking my head, not willing myself to believe I could ever have that.

"I can't. I'm broken, unfixable. No one in their right mind would want me the way I am." I wrapped my arms around my stomach and looked away from him.

"Then find someone who isn't in their right mind. Edward, when you find the girl you're meant to be with, then you've got to be ready and willing. I look at you and I see a man who is about inch away from killing himself. You need to leave, to get out here. What happened to the adventures you used to talk about?" I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my head and I sighed, feeling deflated.

"They're gone. Everything that I was is gone. I'm not the person I used to be and I have no idea how to get him back." My voice trailed off into a whisper as despair washed over me. He shook his head, "I don't believe that. Who you used to be is hiding inside you somewhere. Sure, he won't be the same as he used to be, but he is in there and you need to find him if you want to even have a hope of surviving what life throws at you."

I stayed silent having no reply to his words. I couldn't think straight, my whole mind was dunked in a bowl of water making every thought muffled and worn down.

"Edward, you need to start prioritizing your life. You can't live like this forever. You're numbing yourself to everything that happens around you. You're no longer interacting, you're just observing and it isn't healthy. You need you mind to function properly and it can't when you're using yourself as a pill dispenser. Half the pills you're on, you don't need so don't fucking take them. I swear to you on my mother's grave that as soon as you stop taking some of those pills you'll be able to think clearly and you'll know that what I am telling you is the truth. You may not want to accept it, but not all truths are pretty."

I opened my mouth to reply to him when I heard a car screech to a halt beside me.

"Edward, where the fuck have you been? I got a call from Dr. Banner saying that you didn't bother to show up today." I looked at the furious face of my father and I realized that I was fed up of disappointing ad upsetting everyone around me.

I glanced over my shoulder and found only empty space where Carlisle had been. I spun around and looked around searching for him as my father continued to rant.

"Edward, are you even listening to me? Where have you been and why are you standing out here in the pouring rain?" I blinked at him as for the first time since in over a year my mind cleared.

It seemed that I had been so engrossed in my conversation with Carlisle that I hadn't noticed when the heavens had opened up and poured its contents on me.

"I went for a walk to clear my head." I finally responding, being careful to leave everything about Carlisle out of it. I was starting to doubt that he had ever really been there, that the whole conversation had merely been a trick of my mind. My subconscious giving the push that I had been reluctant to take.

Bu through all that, whether it was a trick of my mind or not, I knew one thing for certain. If it was the last thing I did, and I was starting to think it might be, I would get out of here. I would go out into the world and find the man who used to dream of visiting every cheesy landmark and taking pictures of every little thing that sparked his intrigue.

I would search for that one point of reason, the one thing that would be able to put the shattered pieces of my soul back together.

Maybe it was naive, maybe it was stupid, but being in the place I was in my life, all I had was hope.

I had to hope that there was something out there that would heal me, that could sew me back together and I was not going to give up until I found it...even if it killed me.

**AN: What did you think? Who thinks Carlisle was real? Review and tell me!**


	4. Drowned Out

**AN: I listen to Athlete's Black Swan Album while writing this story, so if you really get the feel of the story listen to it. Sorry it took so long for me to update. I had more than half of it written for a while, but I couldn't finish it until now. Hope you like it. this unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I mean no offense to United States Army and what they do. I wish I was as brave as the soldiers who are a part of it.**

**WARNING: includes scenes of death, thoughts of suicide and mentions PTSD-Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.**

**Chapter 4**

**Drowned Out**

Its strange that even when I was in a crowded place that everything seems to slow and fade according to where my mind was. Smoke swirled and danced around me as my fingers gripped the small glass in my hand. I rotated my wrist, watching the amber liquid slosh around the glass.

A sigh escaped my lips as I looked up from my darkened corner. Just watching the laughing and drinking around me made me ache, lust even, for that life that shined in their eyes. I dropped my eyes back down and slowly lifted the glass to my lips. My fingers shook as I paused and closed my eyes before throwing it back quickly.

I welcomed the burning, biting taste with wide spread arms and sunk lower into my seat. The fire licked at my throat mercilessly and I shivered as I fought against my subconscious as it tried to dig up old memories. The chaos and the screaming hit me regardless of how hard I fought against it. Death lingered in my mind, taking up residence in my brain.

I rubbed the constant lines etched into my forehead as my head pounded. and I let my cheek caress the wood of the table.

I knew they would be looking for me, searching for me but for once I just needed time to sort out my thoughts. I didn't have a clue what I was dong or where I was going, all I knew was that the duffel bag sitting next to me held everything I needed to escape the green and wet and find that small slice of me.

I knew what I was doing was selfish, just getting up and leaving with only a note to tell them what I was doing, but I knew they would have never let me leave.

It was against human nature to let the small, weak, dying ones in the flock find their own way. It was easier to grasp onto to something tightly with both hands, to nurture it and bring it back to heath, than to let it go when there is nothing left for you to do.

I was unfixable and it was something that I had come to terms with. No amount of sitting in an office getting prodded and poked or talking about the horrifying things that happened was going to bring me back. Only I had the power to do that, but I wasn't sure I knew how to do such a thing.

"You know there is only one reason a man such as yourself comes to a bar like this. You want to forget something. Now how you go about doing something like that is a whole different matter. Are you a man of the flesh or are you man that prefers to drown alone?" A small, feminine voice murmured closer than I would have liked.

I forced my eyelids open and looked up at the girl across from me. Her hair was a fiery red color and her eyes were Gray. Little freckles covered her face and she smiled wryly at me. "The name's Maggie and you haven't answered my question."

I forced myself into a partially sitting position and rubbed a hand over my face as a sigh left my lips. "I drown. Alone," I muttered hoping to get rid of her. She didn't seen in the slightest bit discouraged by my refusal of her presence, she merely raised and smirked at me.

"Now where is the fun in that? How about we drown together? I bet I can drink you under the table." I frowned, wondering why this woman would want to be around a man like myself. "No one wants to feel lonely," she said as if reading my mind, "and I could use the company."

It was then that I saw under her carefully sculptured facade. The pained lines on her face and the sorrow hidden in her eyes showed me more than words could ever say. She had lost someone or something that meant more to her than she could bare to admit.

I nodded, "I guess I could do with forgetting my life if not just for a few hours." She smiled, "The first rounds on me."

I ended up spending a whole week in Idaho, living on Maggie's couch. We talked about anything and everything and that was how I found out that her husband, Liam, had died a year ago after a drunk driver had smashed into his car. I gave her a vague story about being captured while I had been fighting oversees.

Our friendship was easy, neither of us feeling the need to pity the other and kind of understanding how the other felt. She was funny, smart, and everything any man could want, but I knew that we both weren't ready for any kind of relationship what would surpass friendship and we were alright with that.

While I knew I was meant to be looking for my one and only, I didn't really feel anything for Maggie. She was like a sibling to me and I wasn't sure it was because I wasn't emotionally ready for anything more or if I had come before the army it would have been the same, but I decided to simply not dwell on it.

"He used to call me his Magpie," she murmured, swirling her wine around her glass, a bittersweet smile on her face. We were sat in her living room on the last night of my stay. I would be going to California next. "He said that I stole his heart. You know what everyone says about Magpies. They're the thief of the bird kingdom." She looked out of the darkened window and wiped a tear falling from her eye.

"Sometimes..."she let out a shaky breath, "Sometimes I wish I could just turn back the clocks and tell him I loved him just once more. It's not something I can easily dismiss, but I hope that wherever he is that he's happy. That's all I can ask for, isn't it?" Her eyes begged for me to agree with her even if I didn't believe what she was talking about. I nodded slowly before looking down at the Burgundy liquid in my glass.

"Tell me something about you," she asked, tucking her feet underneath her and burrowing down among the many throw pillows on the couch. I sighed and gulped down the rest of the glass knowing that I owed her at least a little bit of my soul after all that she had shared.

"I was captured while serving in Iraq and spent four months being tortured. By the time I was rescued I didn't which way was up. If that had been it though, I think that maybe I would have survived it. Maybe I would still have my humanity, I'm not sure anymore."

I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes to stop the tears from falling, "The rescue was fucked up," I murmured, not even sure that I could continue speaking. Just thinking about it was enough to make the contents of my stomach to erupt.

"There was so much hope. We thought it was over. Little did we know that it was the beginning of what we had to go through..."

_"Major to Base. We have the prisoners and are en route." _

_I blinked a few times wishing my vision would clear, not quite believing that we were out of there until I saw it for myself. I half expected the walls to pop back up and the door to smash open so that I could be dragged out for questioning. I could feel hands fluttering over me as I lay prone. I felt the shirt that were now practically swimming on me be tugged upwards before a loud ripping noise hit my ears. _

_I could feel a breeze coiling around my chest and I let out a weak scream of pain as I felt pressure being applied to it._

_"Sgt. Masen. A. Edward, can you hear me?" I groaned quietly in response and felt fingers at my pulse, testing it. "Patient has weak pulse, but is stable. We need to get him to the closest hospital if we want him to have a chance at surviving..."_

_I could feel the pinpricks of pain stabbing at me and I couldn't think through the confusion that was clouding my mind, wrapping it in a thick blanket. I wanted to open my mouth and speak, but it felt like something was sitting on my chest, not allowing me to breath let alone speak. Wheezing gasps left my throat and I could hear shouting around me as the helicopter rocked dangerously._

_"RPG!RPG!"_

_The screech of metal screamed in my ears, ripping apart my eardrums as we tumbled towards the ground. __The helicopter crashed to the ground, skidding across the sand before stilling._

_Silence surrounded us as everyone tried to get their bearings straight. It was until the gas tank on the helicopter exploded that pandemonium hit. It was like hell had come to earth as flames ripped us apart, engulfing men whole in its grip. The weight of something pinned me to the ground and I watched helplessly as the smell of burnt flesh invaded my nostrils, the screams deafening, as men were burnt alive._

_I felt wet and sticky with blood and it wasn't long before I realized that the blood that covered was not just my own. Bile rose in my throat as I realized that weight on my chest was a body, or at least part of a body. Limbs lay around me as I forced the body off me and dragged myself towards a small opening leading to outside. The light guided me as I crawled slowly through it, ignoring the familiar protests of my body._

_Outside was no better than inside, with limbs and blood scattered everywhere like I was on the battlefield. Despair welled up inside of me as a choked sob left my lips. I was destined to die out in the middle of the desert and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. My body collapsed to the ground and I __sunk back into the blackness that had become my friend._

_I awoke with a jolt, an incessant noise grating on my ears as I tried to work out where I was. Panic filled me as I stared out into the unfamiliar darkness. Needles and tightly bound bandages covered my body and I wondered if this was another torture they were trying out on us. My weak fingers clawed at hair trying to rid myself of the pounding in my head__, but all I felt was skin. It was all gone and the incessant noise that had dwindled started up again, but this time I realized it was me._

_I felt myself trying to withdraw into my head because I couldn't understand what was happening. _

_A beeping that hadn't registered in my consciousness quickened its pace as I ripped the needles from my arms and attempted to roll out of whatever contraption they had put me in. I could hear muted footsteps coming towards me hurriedly and I knew that they were coming back for me. All I saw was their masks as arms gripped me and voices shouted at me. I felt like I should be able to understand them, but the words all merged together and came out low and slurred in my head. I screamed and thrashed against the arms pinning to the bed ignoring the ripping pain that threatened to knock me out._

_I had not gotten this far only to be weak in the face of a new type of danger._

_Thick straps were pulled tightly over my body as blood started dripping from my split, broken lips. I couldn't think, I couldn't breath, and then I felt cold and everything went black._

_0#0#0#0#0#0#0#0_

_I didn't know for how long I had been trapped in this hospital bed, tied down and doped up. I barely registered anything that happened around me and I tried to keep my eyes closed as much as possible. Just seeing the walls around me made me feel claustrophobic and I didn't need to be sedated again. _

_They had taken everything away from me. Everything that I had retained after the months of torture was stripped from me in their attempts to help me. I wanted to curl up into a ball or at least shift into a more comfortable position, but I wasn't allowed. I was an 'at risk' patient and they didn't want me messing with all their hard work._

_I closed my eyes tighter together and gritted my teeth as traitor tears fell down my face. My hands clenched, my nails digging into my palms as I fought to control myself. Why? I just didn't understand anything that happened around me. Why, if God was so merciful, was I still on this earth suffering for having fought for my country? I didn't know the condition of the rest of the men that I had shared my cell with, but I prayed that they fared better than I had._

_"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the still room. "If You can hear me then make it go away." I let out a stuttering breath as a sob wracked through my chest. "Just kill me. There is nothing more I can do. There's nothing left..."_

Her eyes held so much sympathy as tears fell down her face that when I was finally able to look at her I had to look away, "As a kid I used to hear phrase, 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' but in that hospital bed as I lay there wasting away I didn't believe it. I felt so weak and useless and it was something that I couldn't cope with..."

"The never ending panic that constantly filled me, it was unbearable. I was uncomfortable in my own skin, my own mind. The thoughts in my head weren't my own, the feelings I experienced were foreign and held little to no meaning to me. I just...I wasn't me anymore."

Now that I had started speaking it was like I couldn't stop. The words poured from my lips and I was defenseless against them.

"They told me that it was normal to feel how I felt at that time, but I couldn't see how it was normal to feel uncomfortable around your own family, to shy away from them like they were strangers."

I let out a bleak laugh, "I was told that it was the PTSD that was causing me to react like that or sometimes it was the medication I was on that made me the way I was. Everything they said confirmed what I thought. It was no longer me controlling my body, it was my disorder. The paranoia and panic was always clawing at me and sometimes I would wake up to find the cold cement walls closing in on me with no way to escape."

My eyes closed as I fought off the grief that bowed over my head.

I was broken beyond repair and for someone like me, someone who thought they could get through anything, it was shattering. I would see ghosts walking in and out of my room, all dressed in their uniforms. It was like watching a movie, all these otherworldly beings walking around my room smiling and laughing with each other like I wasn't lying there in that bed. The worst part was that they were soldiers I had fought with at one point and died. At first I just thought that they were there to take me away but it was like I didn't exist to them, like _I_ was the ghost and they were real. I was wasting away in front of my own eyes, each day causing my body and mind to whittle away."

I could taste the salt of my tears falling down my face as I spoke, my voice no higher than a broken whisper.

"I wasn't sure what was worse. Being awake or sleeping. There was no reprieve from the constant torment that my mind assaulted me with and it felt like I had turned against myself. My won mind and body sought to destroy, to end what was already dying."

My hid my face in my shaking hands, hiding away my weaknesses. "I was suffocating and strangled. Death seemed to be the only way and sometimes, even sitting here with you, I feel like though my body is still here my soul and spirit drowned in that hospital and without them there is nothing worth looking at. I have to force to feel something just to know that I haven't been swept away with the wind. I am nothing, I am a ghost."

**AN: I nearly cried while writing this. I am not sure when I am updating this because I am donating to many different fandoms at the moment. Check out my _coming soon_ page on my blog- Welcome2MyWorldxoxo(dot)blogspot(dot)com- to see what I am up to right now.**


	5. Moving On

**AN: Thank you for all the great reviews they are much appreciated. I would like to say that this story is about Edward's journey to finding himself. It will only be about ten chapters long, ending with an epilogue. **

Moving On

**WARNING: Includes scenes of torture, flashbacks, hallucinations, explicit violence, attempted rape and signs of PTSD.**

Hollow, sunken cheeks. Big purple bags under my eyes. Lifeless green eyes, red-rimmed from the constant breaking down I had been doing. Chapped, split lips that were sore. Lank, dirty brown hair with no color left in it. My eyes flickered, threatening to close as my jaw tightened. Tremors ran through my hands as I stood in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around my waits and a t-shirt on.

I had realised earlier that while I would I allow my eyes to sweep across my face and sometimes briefly my chest, my back had been completely off limits. It was where the worst scars were, the ones that took the longest to heal. My mind had reconciled the fact that if I didn't see the worst of the damage then I could carry on pretending that it didn't happen.

The only way to move on was to face this head on. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath through my nose, trying to quell the rising panic inside me. My hands clenched the fabric at the bottom of my t-shirt and slowly started to inch upwards. My breaths quickened and my body shook heavily_. I can't do this,_ I thought, _I can't see what they did to me and accept it._

"You can do this."

My eyes shot up and saw Carlisle standing in the doorway behind me, a determined look on his face. He had been popping up here and there and I accepted that he wasn't actually here; it was just my minds subconscious effort to help me move forwards.

I could feel tears well up in my eyes as I shook my head. "Its too hard," I whispered.

His eyes narrowed and he looked me straight in the eye. "Do you think that living in denial is how you want spend the rest of you life? Do you want your nightmares to be the only thing comforting you at night? If you don't heal yourself then there is no hope for you? You're broken Edward, and this is a step into picking up the pieces."

I nodded, knowing he was right, but hating to admit it. I took deep breaths through my nose and closed my eyes as I whipped my t-shirt off in one swift move. I turned away from the mirror and forced my eyelids to part. Carlisle smiled encouragingly and I turned my head slowly to look over my shoulder.

All breath left me and a cold sweat broke out as my eyes took in the scars and burns covering my back. My knees weakened as I turned around, grasping the counter as one hand, still shaking, touched the scars, one by one. The feel of the raised skin under my fingertips shot electricity through me and anger started to boil inside me.

How dare they? How fucking dare they destroy me? Blind fury took over me and I sent my fist right through the mirror. My fists didn't stop until they were bleeding and there was nothing left of the mirror, not one shard.

I let out a bellow of rage and pain as I sunk to my knees, not caring about the glass that was imbedding themselves in them. My hands raked through my hair, not caring about the blood dripping from them. I screamed, as everything seemed to blur and shake before me. Sobs wracked through my body and I wrapped my arms around my stomach as pushed myself slowly back into the corner.

_"Speak American pig!"_

_"Give me information!"_

_"Useless fucking soldiers!"_

Their voices speared through my mind and my head whipped to and fro, trying to find where they were coming from. Everything around me faded and I found myself back there, my body tied face down to a table.

_I blinked rapidly as heavy boots walked around me. _

_"You speak. You tell us what we want to know and we not hurt you, understand."_

_A groan left my lips as I peeled my face of the metal surface. I barely had time to think before hands wind in my hair and yank it back painfully. Black, fiery eyes filled with so much hate and disgust stare into mine before he drops it, making me crash my face into table. _

_"Start!" One of them barks and I feel something sharp and burning sprees against my skin. I squirmed and cried out as it tore through my skin._

_"Bet you wish you talk now, huh?" One sneered, his ranched breath blowing over my face._

_I can't accurately say for how long they carved at my back or for how long they left me bleeding with no food or water. All I remember was lying there, my mind slowly retreating in itself. I longer gave them the satisfaction of hearing me scream. Silent tears fell down my face and I wondered for I was sure the millionth time, why God had put me through this._

I peeled back my heavy eyelids I came back into consciousness. I was lying flat out on my back, almost as my body had tried to mirror the one in my nightmare.

I sat up slowly, my head pounding and my body aching. I hissed as little pieces of glass shifted and prodded my skin. My vision blurred and I gripped the wall to my left and closed my eyes briefly. After a few deep breaths I reopened them and dry washed my face, hoping to unscramble the mess my head was in.

I sighed as blood dripped from my nose and held my discarded t-shirt up to it, wiping it away easily.

I stumbled to my feet, making my way out of the bathroom, my hand always gripping something to keep me steady. Exhaustion swept over me ruthlessly and I sat on the edge of the motel bed, trying to figure out my next move.

The sun was creeping its way through the window and I knew that I would have to leave in a few hours. There wasn't enough time to sleep like I needed to, I couldn't afford it.

I pulled on my clothes achingly slow, made sure I had everything and left, leaving behind the destruction of my efforts to move on. I shuddered as a cool wind whipped past me, feeling it practically touch my bones.

My feet sounded loud in the quiet morning as I trudged along, only a few cars out and about at this hour.

I wouldn't lie and tell you that it was the first time I had a flashback. It didn't take much to set them off and I had only recently reached a point where I didn't feel like a danger to myself or others while I had them. They always felt so real, like I had really escaped the prison that had become my hell.

_You can the man out of the hell, but you can't take the hell out of the man._

I snorted at my thoughts and hoisted my duffel bag higher up my shoulder.

"Hey kid, you need a ride?"

My head shot up and I saw that a car had slowed and was driving along next to me. An old man sat alone in the driver's seat of an old Chevy truck and I squinted at him, wondering why he would pick up a guy like me. I wasn't saying that I was a bad guy, but if you took one look at my face, crack addict would probably be the first thing you would think of, not upstanding citizen.

"You sure?" I asked, making sure this hadn't been a do-gooder spur of the moment kind of thing. He nodded and smiled, making the edges of his weathered face crinkle.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I made my way round and got in.

"Where to, kid?" he asked and I shrugged.

"Wherever you're going is fine." I told him and he nodded and pulled back into the traffic.

The old radio was playing country music quietly, crackling and spluttering out music.

"So," the man started, his hands tapping the steering wheel what I guessed to be a nervous gesture. "You're not from around here." It was a statement, not a question. I shook my head and shifted in my seat, a small cough escaping my lips.

"No sir, I come from Washington State."

He nodded and I noticed he glanced at my still shaking, cut hands. I curled them tighter in my lap and looked out the window.

"How long since you've been discharged?" I looked back over at him, confused as to how he knew I was in the army. My dog tags were tucked away safely under my clothes. He chuckled at my expression, "Don't look at me like that kid. I fought in Vietnam, I know first hand the signs of a war hero."

I snorted, "I wouldn't exactly call myself a war hero. More a prisoner of war."

He hummed in agreement. "Stuff like the shit you went through never leaves you kid, you just learn how to live with it. And God bless you if you find a woman who can live with it too." I raised an eyebrow at his language and he merely grinned back at me.

"I may be old but it don't mean I've forgotten my army days. There wasn't a day when I didn't swear like a sailor...or soldier as was the case." I felt my lips twitch in response because I knew exactly what he meant.

"So, seeing as you don't have a direction in mind, why the trip? Washington State isn't exactly close and it's in the opposite direction."

I sighed and shrugged, "Got tired of being coddled by my family and decided to take a road trip to try and find myself again."

He nodded like he understood, "How's that going for you?"

I paused, wondering the same thing myself. Yes, I was still plagued by my memories, but I found myself being able to function better and time seemed to stay with me, instead of slipping through the cracks.

"I'm getting there slowly."

We spent the rest of the drive in silence and I had to keep pushing myself not to fall asleep. My head kept falling forwards only for me jolt it back when I realised that my eyes were threatening to close.

The sun streamed through the clouds, warming my arms and highlighting the silver scars running up and down them. It had taken weeks for the hairs on my arms to grow back, slightly obscuring the marks I longed to hide.

"This is my stop." His voice pulled me gently out of my thoughts and I gripped the handle of the door gearing myself up for a long day.

"I never did get your name," he called out to me as I slammed the car door closed.

"Edward Masen," I murmured.

"Benjamin Cheney," he replied, a smile on his face and his eyes dancing.

"Th-thanks for the ride," I stuttered out, my mind buzzing and clouding over from exhaustion. He seemed kind of worried as his brows furrowed.

"No problem. You sure you'll be alright?"

I nodded as my feet started to move sluggishly forward.

"Okay then," he sighed. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

I smiled weakly and started limping down the street, the heat mixed with the exhaustion making it ache more than usual. I didn't dare take any medication, incase I collapsed in a doorway and fell asleep. I knew if that happened that it would take a lot to wake me up again and I didn't want to risk losing my duffel bag.

With no money and no real destination, I continued limping around the city, wondering where I could sleep in the predicament that I was in. No one was going to take a guy like me into their homes and my only solution was to find a quiet, empty alley where I wouldn't be disturbed.

I didn't know what I was meant to do for food. I was still not eating properly as I usually ended up throwing it up a few hours later, but my body was not reaping any benefits from me starving myself. I decided to think about after I had slept and I stumbled down a reasonably clean alley.

Water dripped from loose pipes and I could smell food wafting through the back of a restaurant. A bird flew off its perch on a dumpster as it saw me, knocking over a bottle, sending it shattering to the ground.

I heard the shuffling of feet as two guys, that looked worse than me, emerged from behind the dumpster. One ran a hand across his nose, smearing the dirt already caked to it.

"Look what we have here," he slurred, eyeing me hungrily. I sucked in a breath as black, dead eyes so similar to the ones in my memories stared at me. Bile rose in my throat as he flicked open a switchblade and his partner shuffled to the left, trying to corner me.

My eyes flickered around me as I moved slowly backwards, hoping to get out of the alley subtly as there was no way that I could outrun them.

Yellowed teeth appeared a sinister smirk appeared on his face. His tongue ran over his lips as excitement appeared in his eyes. I knew what they were planning for me and I hated that I felt trapped; that there wasn't anything I could do about it. I was too weak.

The other lunged at me, knocking me over and causing me to smash my head against the concrete floor. Pain shot through my head, ringing in my ears as my arms were wrenched above my head and pinned down.

I struggled weakly against them, feeling hopeless.

"DO SOMETHING!" My eyes lifted up to see Carlisle standing there, anger apparent in his face.

_I can't_, I answered him silently.

The fire in his eyes doubled, "So you're just going to lie there and let them rape you. You're going to let them take away from you everything you have worked hard to bring back. You're going to let them torture you and you're not going to fight. You are not a man then, Edward. You truly are nothing."

Anger shot through me at his words and I was brought back as hands tugged on my belt.

All my training from PT and my time in the army came flooding to the forefront of my mind. So intent on unclothing me, that he didn't even realise when I pulled my leg back and kicked him in the balls.

He fell back cursing and cupping himself as I twisted myself, loosening the others grip on my arms. I yanked, feeling something in my shoulder pull loose as I threw him off balance. I scrambled to my feet only to get a fist right in my face. My nose crunched as blood gushed out of it but I ignored it, I had gone through worse pain than that.

I lunged for him, gripping him round the waist as we fell to the ground with a thump. It was like my mind had awoken and shoved me to back, taking control of the situation. I was cool, methodical and unrepentant as I gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him up so that he was face level.

"You have no power over me," I snarled at him before pulling my fist back and slamming it into his face. He jerked back, blood dripping from his split lip, as he fought to stay conscious. "You won't make me cower. You control nothing of me anymore._ I_ control me. Me and me alone."

I slammed my fist back into his face again, feeling empowered as he slumped unconscious in my grip.

I dropped him to the ground and spun to the right just in time for a force to slam into my back. My body was thrown to the ground and I rolled over to find the man on top of me, a crazed look in his eye.

His fist connected with my stomach and I grunted before gripping his returning fist in my hand. Fury clouded my mind as I twisted it and forced him off me. He screamed in pain as I yanked his hand to the left, snapping his wrist.

I stood over him, breathing heavily as he clutched his hand to his chest. Fear came off him in waves as I picked up his switchblade and cocked my head to the right.

"You're not powerful without your weapons and your confidence, are you? Do you get off on causing people pain? On humiliating them?" I pulled my foot back and kicked him in the side. "Do you like knowing that they can never forget about you and what you did to them? That they will forever be looking over their shoulder, expecting you to be there? You like that, don't you?" I snarled, bending down so that I was squatting by his head.

I grabbed his hair hand yanked it back. "Answer me!" I yelled.

He coughed out some blood before a smirk appeared on his disgusting face. "Yeah, I love every second of it," he gloated and I smacked his head back hard against the floor. He slumped; his body limp as he lost conscious.

Fury still licked and burned through me and I forced my way to the front of my mind, not wanting to take this too far. This was not war, we were not on a battlefield, and murder was not the answer.

I was thankful that my shirt was black as I wiped the sweat and blood off my face. I threw the switchblade in the dumpster underneath some garbage bags before making my way to the nearest pay phone.

_"911. What is your emergency?" _

I quickly relayed the information needed for the police to pick them and put the phone down. Rain had started coming down in thick sheets as I limped through the streets. Not knowing where to go, I just kept moving on.

A rumble of a truck caught my attention as it pulled up to the curb.

"Need a ride?"

I looked up to see Benjamin Cheney sitting there is his truck, a grey eyebrow raised.

I barely managed to contain a hysterical laugh. "Where are you going?"

"Home," he answered simply and I cocked my head to the side, mulling his offer over carefully.

"I kind of like the sound of that."

**AN: This kind of ends of a cliff, but next chapter you get to meet Mrs. Cheney and Edward gets further in his journey. Review and make my day!**


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